


Termina

by network



Series: Destiny Shorts [3]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Developing Relationship, M/M, Osiris Returns to the City, Saint Lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-08 11:57:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18894166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/network/pseuds/network
Summary: does anything truly end?[ Saint never dies in the forest / fix-it ]





	1. I’d give my life for you

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so this was supposed to be a one-shot but then it got out of hand. It'll still probably only be two or three chapters long, but knowing me it could end up as a ten part series...  
> It's still part of the 31 Days of Destiny though, so each chapter will be a prompt each, if that makes sense.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from “Get you the moon” by Kina, Snøw

            Osiris has been missing Saint for decades.

            It had, at some point, just become part of his daily routine in the Forest - to wake up in a cold sweat after seeing Saint die over and over, not knowing how the Titan is now, if he’s safe, if he’s happy, if he’s _alive_ even. Even after the fall of Panoptes, and the unofficial end to his Exile, he remains isolated in the Forest, too afraid to ask Ikora or Taevas about Saint’s present condition.

            He’s afraid he already knows the answer. His Dreams usually come true, after all.

\--

            Today is different.

            Taevas had dropped by, earlier, with her usual package of tea and snacks from Ikora, while her Ghost explained to him the purpose of their visit to the Forest – to track an old Vanguard signal. He’d bid them good-luck, and opened a comm channel with Unelema, her Ghost, in order to guide the Hunter through some of the trickier Pathways.

            He brews a kettle as he listens to Unelema and Sagira verbally spar (the tension between them after Panoptes never really eased, and Osiris isn’t sure half of the time if they really dislike each other, or simply enjoy the back and forth), Taevas silent as always. Unelema mutters about Vex conduits and unstable time signatures, and the sinking feeling in his stomach returns. If Saint came to the Forest, it was probably to find him. And if Saint was lost here, it would be his fault – he would’ve killed yet another innocent bystander.

\--

            “He’s alive!” Unelema’s voice cuts through on the comm, and Osiris startles so suddenly that he nearly spills the remnants of his tea over himself.

            **_“What?!”_** His tone is harsh but somehow still hushed, constant fear and suppressed hope mixed with blatant astonishment.

            “Sending you the coordinates now – hurry, he’s injured.” The other Guardian’s Ghost cuts off, leaving him to fumble in a messy attempt to conjure a portal to Reality 247-B (he hasn’t been there in years, _fuck_ ).

            He hesitates before the open portal until Sagira bumps comfortingly into his shoulder. “Come on Osiris. He needs you.”

            With a final deep breath, he steps through.

            The first thing he notices is Taevas, carefully positioned over a figure propped against a wall, mask hitched up to expose her face where blue lips are worried beneath teeth and amber eyes are clearly focused on the person before her. Gloveless cerulean fingertips glow with pure Light as they hover over exposed circuitry, and Osiris’ breath catches in his throat.

            Saint is here. _Alive_.

            The Exo is clearly injured, abdomen torn open by multiple wounds, optics shut off and fingers switching between clenching in pain and laying limp. His Ghost, Evera, carefully rests against Saint’s uninjured shoulder. When Evera notices him she leaves the Titan’s side with a final nudge and floats over to where Osiris stands, frozen.

            “ _Osiris_. It’s been a… while.”

            He doesn’t respond, still staring motionlessly at Saint. Sagira bumps against him harder than usual, and he turns to glare half-heartedly at her. “Come on dumbass, we need to get him back to the study.”

            That snaps him out of his daze properly, and he rushes over to Saint’s side. The Exo seems almost entirely unaware of his surroundings and doesn’t react beyond a quiet groan of pain when Osiris shifts him into his arms, careful to avoid further aggravating the Titan’s wounds.

            By the time they arrive back at his study Saint has slowly regained more of his consciousness, eyes blinking open as Sagira transmatts away the books and artefacts covering the closest thing he has to a bed. Osiris lays the Titan down, avoiding meeting Saint’s eyes as Evera transmatts away his chest plate to allow Taevas a closer look at his wound.

            The Hunter seems to hold a conversation with her Ghost, half over their link and half in a hushed mechanical voice and strange hand gestures. Taevas sighs, glancing over at Saint, then over at Osiris.

            “We’re going to have to take him to the Tower.” He’s never heard the Hunter speak before, and had never expected to, really.

            She glances over at her Ghost, and Unelema continues for her. “There’s not much more we can do. His condition shouldn’t worsen for now, but there’s some pretty deep damage there that we can’t fix.”

            “I’ll help get you to the Gate.”

            Taevas shakes her head, and her Ghost speaks. “You’re coming with us.”

            He frowns, lines on his forehead deepening with worry. “I can’t. I’ve been here for half a century.”

            Sagira nudges comfortingly against his cheek. “All the more reason to leave then. Come on Osiris, I wanna smell something over than spicy Vex milk, and you need a social life. Win-win.”

            “I’m still exiled, Sagira.”

            “Not anymore.” It’s Taevas’ voice again, cool and confident, clearly giving the impression that she won’t take no for an answer. “It was lifted after Panoptes. Almost unanimous Consensus agreement.” She crosses her arms in an infuriatingly Hunter-like way, and he sighs.

            “Fine. But I don’t imagine anyone will be too happy about it.”

            Taevas shrugs and Sagira laughs. “They can suck my non-existent ass if they have a problem with you. Come on dumbass.”

            He takes the nondescript green cloak the Hunter offers him, slipping it over his under-armour when Sagira finishes transmatting his more distinct clothing away. He turns to Saint, feeling utterly ridiculous in pseudo-Hunter gear, only to find that the Titan has been watching them with a small smile on his face.

            “It’s good to see you again, Osiris.” The Exo’s voice is strained, and Tae gestures for him to be quiet. He must have damaged his voice-box at some point.

            Osiris flounders for words to reply but finds them unnecessary as he surges forward to help support Saint’s considerable weight. Face hidden behind the borrowed cloak, Vance thankfully doesn’t bother them when they exit the Gate and enter Taevas’ ship. His gear shifts back to normal once Saint is settled on one of the bunks, and he sits silently on a nearby chair while all three Ghosts slowly help to heal some of the more concerning damage.

            He’s in for one hell of a ride.


	2. Please don’t love me, it’s a waste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from “Let Me Die” by Lil Happy Lil Sad  
> Day 9 of 31 Days of Destiny

            Osiris joins Taevas in the cockpit, watching through the large, sleek windows as the form of the Traveler grows larger and larger. He hasn’t seen it like this before, shards orbiting and lightning dancing across it’s surface where its inner workings have been exposed. Ignoring the millions of questions that buzz around his head, he phases out as Taevas plugs in her clearance codes and Unelema requests immediate medical assistance. The dread in his stomach grows as the Traveler does, and he swallows down a nervous cough.

\--

            When they touch down in the hangar, he can see a crowd assembled before them, and his fingers twitch with anxiety. It’s only medical staff really, he can tell, with a couple of curious hangar techs and Guardians mixed in, but he hasn’t been around anyone other than Sagira and the occasional Simulation for over fifty years, even with the addition of Ikora, Taevas and Unelema recently. He’s almost forgotten how to act around people, a far cry from the Vanguard Commander he once was.

            They exit the cockpit together, to find Saint sat up in the bunk with his hand curled around his major wound, Sagira and Evera watching him carefully as he attempts to stand. Osiris is silent – struggling to find his words – as he sets Saint’s arm over his shoulder, letting the Exo lean heavily on him as the gangplank descends and Taevas leads them out into the hangar.

            The tension in the air is palpable – the crowd assembled before them had no idea what to expect, but two ex-Vanguard, one exiled and one vanished, following a stoic Taevas was probably beyond even the wildest of possibilities. The medical personnel snap out of their half-daze when they realise that Saint is their patient, fussing over him and pulling him away to the infirmary.

            He’s left with Taevas in the space as most of the remaining crowd drifts off, neither of them quite sure what to do or say. They’re saved from having to make any decisions when Ikora’s voice rings out in the large room – “Osiris?”

            He manages a smile as Ikora approaches, the other Warlock a clear mix of surprised and concerned. “Ikora. It’s good to see you again.”

            “Of course, but I didn’t expect you to return to the City.”

            “There were some... pressing matters. Do you have time to talk?”

            “For you, always. I know where we can go.”

\--

            They end up in Ikora’s room, Taevas leaving them with a mention of Hawthorne, her wife, from her Ghost. Her apartment is nice, he finds – filled with books and artefacts, plants decorating the windowsills and lanterns hanging from the ceilings. It feels strangely like _home_ , especially when the Vanguard presses a cup of tea into his hands and they settle in the comfy armchairs in the living room.

            “So… you found Saint.”

            He nods, then catches himself. “Well, Taevas did. I just helped her to get there.”

            Ikora studies his face carefully, and he shifts minutely, uncomfortable. “You blame yourself.”

            “Why wouldn’t I? He was there to find me.”

            “Did he tell you that?”

            “Well no, but why else would he be in the Forest? I certainly can’t imagine the Speaker approving.”

            She laughs – “He didn’t, at the time. Especially not when Saint appointed Zavala as his replacement, if he didn’t return within a month.” Her face falls slightly, lips contorting into a frown. “We presumed him dead as the months fell into years and into decades. _Mourned_ him, as I mourned you.”

            “I’m… sorry.”

            “It’s not your fault.” She lets out a small, slightly dry laugh. “I think I’ve finally figured out what you meant by that.”

            “Meant by what?”

            “’You can’t change the past. But you can change the future.’” She turns to him, with an appraising yet knowing look. “I wonder when you’ll realise what you meant.”

\--

            That night, he visits Saint in the infirmary.

            The Titan is awake still, a book laying discarded on the sheets of his cot as Evera talks to him in hushed tones, his voice-box still strained but obviously far more functional now. When Saint hears him enter, his optics train upon him, an expression Osiris can describe only as _joy_ flitting across his features (but that can’t be right, he tells himself).

            _“Osiris..”_ He croaks out, wincing at the sound of his one voice.

He hurries over to the bedside, hands hovering over the Exo’s form for a moment before settling on his upper arm. “You’re the biggest idiot I know, Saint.”

Saint coughs briefly – _violently –_ before huffing out a half-laugh. “’ad to find you.”

            “You nearly _died_ , Saint.”

            “- be worth it.”

            “No, it wouldn’t be! Your life is worth so much more than mine, I don’t understand how you could consider throwing it all away on the off chance of finding… _me_.” He deflates, anger at Saint gone and replaced with dislike for himself.

            So wrapped up in his thoughts, he didn’t notice that Saint has sat up, nor that the Exo now watches him warily. With one last push, Saint reaches over and tugs Osiris into a kiss.

            It’s clumsy and messy and everything Osiris had dreamed off, even as they part to allow Saint to rest against his shoulder and mumble quietly against his ear.

            “Been waiting half a century to do that.”


End file.
